[AN ALBUM SONNET.]
Lady! I thank thee that I here may wreathe
My name with many whom thou lovest well;
Though not in 'words that burn, or thoughts that breathe,'
Can I the wishes of my bosom tell:
But there is nothing I need ask for thee,
Of aught to maiden's heart most deeply dear;
Yet there is one thing I need wish for me—
It is, to keep my memory fadeless here.
This much I know thou wilt to me accord,
Although I give thy clustering hair no flattering word,
Nor praise the flashing of thy clear, dark eye,
(Though praise them as I might, I should not lie;)
Here then I leave these wishes of my heart—
May I be unforgot, and thou just such as now thou art!
G. P. T.
[THE HEIRESS.]
'The passion which concentrates its strength and beauty upon one object, is a rich and terrible stake, the end whereof is death. The living light of existence is burnt out in an hour, and what remains? The dust and the darkness!'
L. E. L.
Endow'd with all that heart could wish,
With all that wealth could bring,
I 'mov'd amid a glittering throng,'
A vain and worshipped thing.
From myriads who beset my path,
My heart selected thee;
Though lips of love thy follies nam'd,
Those faults I could not see.
That wealth was mine, I heeded not,
And cared not to be told;
To one I deem'd of priceless worth,
How mean a gift was gold!
My beauty was a brighter dower,
And worthier far to be
The vain oblation of the hour
That saw me pledged to thee!